


Ego Identity Development

by spacegirl



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Liverpool F.C., M/M, angsty existential mess, i don't know this just happened, implied but kinda obvious i don't know, there's not much mo/dejan but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:01:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18576886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirl/pseuds/spacegirl
Summary: He thinks if he didn’t keep ripping the ego out of his head and laughing at it, it might seep into his real thoughts. The thoughts he never thinks about thinking - the thoughts that are just him.So Mo is always thankful for Dejan.





	Ego Identity Development

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how I got to this idea, it all just happened suddenly and wrote itself a while ago.
> 
> I debated not posting it - feeling like it needed to be turned into something bigger, but I'm kinda into the existential spiral of whatever this turned out as by itself.

Salah wonders how he comes off in the press. Only sometimes. He wonders if they can tell he’s usually being sarcastic. Dejan says he comes off like an ego maniac. Hendo and Millie says everyone can tell he’s joking. He knows Dejan’s only messing with him.

He’s pretty sure he comes off okay.

He jokes but - he’s not an ego maniac.

But sometimes. Only sometimes. For the three seconds after the ball hits the back of the net. When his blood runs hot. And reality blurs away a little.

He feels like an ego maniac. Or like he could turn into one if he’s not careful.

He’s glad he can joke about it. That Dejan will joke about it with him. That everyone on the team knows he’s joking.

It doesn’t happen that often; being taken over by ego. Never in training, never with family or friends. And it’s definitely not the reason he plays football.

Sometimes he wonders how anyone could play football for a reason as empty as ego alone.

There’s much better things to play for. Much bigger things.

Love.   
Friendship.   
Joy.

Things that take over him as he runs and the fans cheers ringing in his ears. As he’s calling to Bobby across the pitch. Or as he locks eyes with Virgil when he’s about to take a corner.

He’s taken over by these big feelings, about how much it all _means_ to him, to all of them. How much friendship there is between them. How much love is wrapped up in this club. The burning desperation inside them to make the fans proud.

And sometimes. When he’s lying quiet, still waiting for the adrenaline to subside (so that he can get some sleep at least) he can’t help but think how crazy it all is.

That it’s such a big universe.

There’s so many lives on this planet.

And it’s mad that he can fit all these feelings in his heart.

The insanity that this can all feel _so important_ when in reality it’s just a sport that pays them obscene amounts of money. He knows he’s not that important. He isn’t saving lives, he isn’t changing the world. He’s just playing the game he’s loved since he was a kid.

He can separate himself from the times his ego takes over completely.

 

> **It’s all just the heat of the moment, the rush of adrenaline.**
> 
> **When he can see the fans going wild. Can hear his captain screaming next to him. And it feels like everything he touches will turn to gold.**
> 
> **And who else could know what it feels like.**
> 
> **To be this man - the hope a whole city has been waiting for.**
> 
> **Just a man, sure - but one that they’ve deemed a king.**
> 
> **His song echoes through the stands, Mo can feel it in his bones.**
> 
> **Surely, he couldn’t get closer to godhood than this.**
> 
> **He doesn’t even think the Gods he read about in Greek myths felt like this.**

 

But those feelings are over as fast as they begin. 

The world comes back into focus, and he hugs the boys, thanks Bobby for the assist. And he’s taken over by the love he feels for this team. This club. These fans.

And they’re back to playing the game, his passion amped up to eleven.

 

He thinks if he didn’t keep ripping the ego out of his head and examining it - laughing at it, it might seep into his real thoughts. The thoughts he never thinks about thinking - the thoughts that are just _him_.

So Mo is always thankful for Dejan.

He’s thankful for the snarky comments, and the mocking Instagram posts. How Dejan will roll his eyes at him in training - Mo is so happy Dejan’s back with him in full training.

Because he knows Dejan gets it. They’ve spent enough time sat in each other’s cars, talking about serious stuff (or dumb stuff, or weird stuff) when they don’t have the pressure of eye contact making it harder to express all the thoughts caught up in your head.

Mo’s talking about ego one day. Which isn’t unusual. Running through all the things he felt in one moment.

 _it was like everything was gleaming -_  
_like I was glowing._  
_I could feel it in my skin Dej -_  
_like I was one of the only people who had found their true soul’s purpose  
_ _like I was blessed_

And Dejan is overcome with emotion - like he always is when it comes to Mo. He can’t believe Mo is so gifted, so loving, smart and loyal. And that he’s chosen Dejan to share every thought that goes through his head with.

To be honest Dejan can’t believe Mo can hang on to all these feelings, can articulate them even. Can look at them, and dissect them, never letting himself be dragged away with them. Dejan gets dragged too easily.

Dejan knows he can’t be so clinical about the lines between what thoughts make him who he is, and which thoughts are just passing through his head.

“Thank goodness I’m here to keep you humble then, eh?” Dejan asks, smiling as he can feel Mo’s eyes on him now, but refuses to give in and look across at him.

There’s a pause, Mo laughs slightly.

“You couldn’t keep me humble. You’re not humble. Out there calling yourself one of the _best defenders in the world_.”

Dejan makes a small noise of protest, but his smile grows.

He looks back at Mo, who’s voice is light as he says; “I’m exorcising these demons to keep you humble. That’s the truth.”

Dejan punches him lightly in the arm, before he turns to start the car, getting ready to drive them home.

Of course it's the truth - Mo's always right.

**Author's Note:**

> So honestly - cards on the table - it was gonna turn into some weird fun role-play of Dejan worshiping Mo like a king and Mo getting into the character and getting to get all his /ego/ out with Dejan over some hot hookups.
> 
> Let me know if you'd be into that because it might give me motivation to add that on as another chapter. 
> 
> Comments and feedback are always lovely and super appreciated!


End file.
